


And So It Is...

by writingramblr



Category: Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them (Movies), Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst with a Happy Ending, Cheating, Closer - Mashup, Crossover, Eventual Smut, Fluff and Angst, Infidelity, M/M, Multi, Plot Twists
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-15
Updated: 2017-04-15
Packaged: 2018-10-19 01:01:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,173
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10628895
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/writingramblr/pseuds/writingramblr
Summary: Newt is seeing Credence, who's not a fan of Tina who's married to Percival.Mainly because Tina and Newt shared a kiss and maybe more.It all comes to a head at the art exhibit featuring Credence.





	

**Author's Note:**

> this is the obligatory Closer AU bc stripper!credence yo.

_“It was the moment of my life, you were perfect.”_

 

Credence had never imagined he’d find himself where he ended up. Standing inside a nicely chilled museum, looking at a massive framed photo of his face, one single tear falling gracefully down his cheek.

It was black and white, and there was only a hint of soft focus, but Newt had said he resembled a painting, an angel from the renaissance era, and though Credence believed him, trusted him, he couldn’t forget what the picture was a snapshot from.

Discovering his love wasn’t wholly his.

Even if it had been an accident, a slip up, simply a moment that had gone too far while getting his cover photo done, it didn’t matter. To Credence, it was a betrayal he would never totally be able to move on from. Especially considering he had insisted they attend the woman’s exhibit, if only to be able to see the finished work.

Now, waiting for Newt to finish his pointless chatter with all the rich patrons, he huffed out a sigh, and tried not to tap his foot, to come off like the impatient child. He was more than a lofty muse, he wanted to be treasured, not worshiped.

“What were you so sad about?”

A smooth voice, rich and throaty, broke through his scattered thoughts, and Credence spun on his heel to find a man in an elegantly cut suit approaching, cautious but clearly speaking to him.

“I’m sorry?”

“That’s you, in the photograph, isn’t it? Hair’s a bit longer now.”

A smile quirked the man’s lips, and Credence darted his gaze away, over to Newt, and he started, seeing him speaking to the slim brunette photographer. Of course, he knew she would have come by to thank them for coming, but he expected to be at his partner’s side, not shoved off and away, in favor of them whispering like school chums sharing a secret.

“You wanna talk about art, at an exhibition of ‘the work?’”

“I know, it’s vulgar isn’t it? Tina would tell me I’m being snobbish.”

“You’re the handsome boyfriend?”

The man cocked a brow,

“She says I’m handsome?”

“My boyfriend said that she called you that.”

“Where’s your bloke?”

Credence blinked, realizing he’d gotten caught staring at the silver kissing the sides of the man’s temples.

“Over there, talking to your bird.”

He smirked, and the man glanced over, spotting the two, still talking close, conspiratorially.

“Well the handsome boyfriend has a name. I’m Doctor Graves.”

Credence held out his hand, and the man took it, rubbing his thumb over the back of his knuckles, before he could pull it back from the handshake,

“I’m Credence.”

“Isn’t that the name of the character in…”

He nodded, wishing the floor would open up and he could disappear.

Doctor Graves had read the book. Read about his life. Knew far more than anyone but Newt should.

“It’s about me, yes.”

“So you’re a stripper? Is it all true?"

Credence swallowed, delaying answering as long as possible, reaching for his cigarettes,

“Do you want one?”

Doctor Graves took the bait, and derailed the conversation,

“I shouldn’t.”

“Go on, live a little.”

“Smoking is bad for you.”

“Fuck off.”

The man laughed,

“I’m a doctor, I’m supposed to say that.”

Credence licked his lips and sighed,

“So you want one?”

“Sure.”

With a lungful of smoke, he couldn’t yet reply either.

“Some of it.”

“Hmm?”

Doctor Graves had moved closer, and Credence didn’t know when, but now he had to look right at the man, eyes locked on his own dark ones,

“Some of it is true. But I would never tell anyone all of me.”

“The mysterious muse.”

There was a hand on his face, sudden and warm, stealing Credence’s breath, even as his cigarette smoldered in his own hand, as all noise faded away, the paltry chatter, the music overhead, even his own heartbeat, thundering in his ears.

He remained silent, unwilling to blink, to break the moment, and he could feel the man’s eyes dragging down his jaw, his neck, a rough thumb swiping over his cheek, then it ended, sliding away, as Doctor Graves smiled,

“You take care now.”

“I will. Thanks. You too.”

His heavy footsteps faded away and he delicately pried his girlfriend away from Newt, leaving him alone, awaiting Credence.

 

*

 

“You lied to me once, and I forgave you. You’ve been lying to me for months now… what am I supposed to do? I love you. Love isn’t enough for you is it?”

Newt shrunk back, away, and shook his head.

“I couldn’t help myself. I didn’t even know I could be attracted to women. That afternoon wasn’t…”

Credence couldn’t see through his tears, feeling as if his entire body might collapse if he unspooled his arms from around his own chest,

“I’ve been you. I’ve been there. There’s a moment, there’s always a moment, where you say, I can do this, I can give in, or I can resist, I can be strong, faithful. Was there ever a moment for you?”

“Maybe…”

“Why?”

“I don’t know why. I never wanted to hurt you. I care about you.”

“But you don’t love me.”

It wasn’t a question, Credence could see it in Newt’s face, the way he couldn’t meet his eyes. He had been the only person that Newt ever looked at, ever since they met, with him in the road, Newt helping him to his feet, walking him to the hospital.

How had they come so far, and fallen apart so quickly?

“I need a drink.”

“Make us some tea.”

Credence didn’t wait, didn’t watch as Newt nodded, turning away to move into the kitchen. He just left.

He could vaguely hear Newt calling after him, but he was too many blocks away, and he wasn’t going back. All he needed was the clothes on his back, and a way to fasten his hair back. His cellphone burned a hole in his pocket, and he kept it off as long as he could. When he finally turned it on, dozens of messages and voicemails popped up, and he deleted them all.

 

Three weeks later, he was in a new club, prowling around the floor, eyeing the men drinking at the bar, and smiling occasionally, until the door opened, and a familiar broad shouldered outline stepped in.

He almost retreated to hide behind the group of businessmen who’d arrived together, but then he remembered, in his silver wig, he’d probably go unnoticed, and besides, he belonged to no one, he was no longer just a muse on a pedestal.

It was comical, watching the doctor migrate aimlessly around the room, clearly uncomfortable by the blaring music and the bright lights, finally, Credence decided to give in, and go talk to him.

“Hello stranger.”

Doctor Graves looked over at him, and his eyes widened, as Credence put his hand on the man’s wrist, tugging him towards one of the private rooms.

He had some stubble on his face, like he’d gone without shaving a few days, and maybe slept in less.

“Credence? What are you doing here?”

“I work here. It’s fifty for the room. But you can pay me in increments. I know divorce is expensive.”

He smirked, and ignored the way the man’s eyebrow lifted.

“Your bird would never let you come here if you were still together. Am I wrong?”

Doctor Graves inhaled sharply, and sat down gingerly, as if afraid of catching something from the blue velour seats.

“She fucking left me.”

“I’m sorry.”

Credence was slowly rolling his hips, not quite touching the man’s lap, instead putting his hands on his hair, ensuring the wig was still in place, shimmering under the colored lights.

“Don’t apologize. Clearly we’ve both been wronged. She was fucking your boyfriend.”

“Ex. No one wronged me. I left him when he came home smelling of her.”

“So what, you're here, trying to forget him?”

Credence smiled, but it felt fake.

“Just trying to make a living.”

“I don't usually get my dances from men, no matter how pretty they are.”

Doctor Graves sounded unsure.

“Shall I go? Send in Jane instead?  She's cute. Maybe more your type. Brunette, breasts, nice smile.”

Firm hands grasped his hips, pulling him down right into the man's lap, and his breath caught at the hardness he felt under his ass.

“Didn't say I didn't like it, did I?”

Credence only allowed the touch to linger a moment before plucking the man's hands up, clicking his tongue against his teeth,

“No touching. I can touch you, but you're not allowed to touch me. See that? There are cameras in the ceiling.”

Doctor Graves inhaled sharply, and leaned back to put his hands safely behind his head,

“Forgive me. I forgot. Make no mistake,  I'd like to touch you. Very much.”

Credence lifted his eyes to the man’s face from where he'd been staring at the shiny leather of his shoe,

“I'm not a whore.”

“I wouldn't pay.”

The weight of his gaze was too much, too stifling.  He couldn't work or think like that. Not when he was being watched like he was in danger of being devoured.

He walked over to pour a cup of water from the icy jug in the corner, turning to see Doctor Graves withdrawing a wad of bills from his jacket.

“Nice wig. Did they not allow you to display your own hair?”

Credence shrugged,

“I thought it would be more fun like this.” his entire outfit was silver and black, contrasting with his pale skin. He knew it was a good look, and it partly explained why the man didn't stop staring.

“You're like some kind of enchanting god. Fallen from olympus to torture me.”

“Thank you. Would you like me to take anything off?”

He set the empty cup down and walked back over to Doctor Graves’ side, and he received the smallest of nods in reply.

He licked his lips and reached to unsnap the clip on his top, before shrugging one shoulder out, then undoing the rest of it, and tossing it aside.

To his credit, the man barely looked fazed, even though now all Credence had on was a tiny pair of black lace panties.

The top was the whole outfit practically.

When he climbed back on the man’s lap, careful to only brace his hands at the shelf behind his head, grazing his wrists at the sides of his neck, Doctor Graves let out a groan, though he wasn't even touching his lap.

“Why the fuck did he leave you?”

“Stop talking about him.”

“I'm paying for this time, can't I talk about what I want? You have to earn it.”

Credence rolled his eyes and sat down, grinding hard enough to make the man shut up, and he did, blessedly, but only long enough to thrust up and nearly buck him off.

“You can keep acting like you don't care or want this, but it's not gonna work.”

“What are you talking about Doctor?”

“I never told you my profession.”

The man teased him, a smirk curling his lips, which Credence was _not_ staring at, no.

“I guessed.”

“You're curious. It's a chink in your armor.”

“I'm not wearing armor.” He sighed, but his fake smile faltered, not escaping Doctor Graves’s notice, and he chuckled,

“Of course you are. We all are. We pretend no one can ever get to us. Sometimes we just let the wrong person in.”

“Sounds like you need a drink and a good night's sleep.”

“That's your advice for a broken heart?” Doctor Graves sat up suddenly, forcing Credence to grab his shoulders to hold his seat, and then they were very, very close.

“It's just the truth.”

“Tell me, what does your come taste like? Cynicism must have a flavor.”

Credence blinked rapidly, as he felt heat curling down his spine, against his will, his mind flooded with images of what it would be like, give in, let the man take him home, _take_ him, bend him over, spread him open, _taste_ him, make him cry for all the right reasons.

“Heaven.”

 

*

 

Doctor Graves’ place was nice, a two story loft with vaulted ceilings. But all Credence could see in five seconds would have to do, as the man tossed his keys aside, slammed the door shut and nearly pinned him against the wall before the stairs, hips holding him still, hand gently removing his silvery tinsel wig, before the man’s mouth was ravaging his own.

“This isn’t usually how these things go, is it?”

The man breathed against his neck, teeth worrying a mark that wouldn’t fade for days, and Credence couldn’t even think to shrug or say he didn’t know.

“I’m not your revenge fuck.”

“No. You’re my wake up call.”

A hand took his own, and tugged him up the stairs, before letting go of him, just long enough to start undoing his shirt, and kick off his shoes. Under his coat, Credence only had his stripper get up and kitten heels, which he nudged off, and then shrugged out of his top, leaving the lace on, as he crawled onto the bed, turning to throw a coy smile the man’s way.

“How do you want me, Doctor?”

“Don’t be ridiculous. Call me Percy.”

“Is that what she called you?”

A smack on his ass, which had been arched up fairly enough, startled him and stole his next smart remark.

“No. She never was very vocal in the bedroom. I suspect she was afraid of calling out the wrong name, sweet thing.”

Credence made a face, and Doctor Graves, Percy, kissed him.

“I don’t like pet names really either.”

“Call me whatever you like, long as it isn’t ‘hey you.’”

“Mmm, I like that idea… Daddy.”

“Fuck, do you have to make me feel old, and dirty?”

Credence rolled them over so he was on top, grinding down onto the man’s boxers, his own cock straining against the lace trimmed silk,

“No, but it’s fun to watch you blush.”

“So do I get to taste you or what?”

It was his turn to blush at that, and instead of answering, he fell to his side, and cocked his head over at the man, tucking his hands beneath his hair, fluffing it slightly, and Percy dipped a thumb into the waistband of his panties, pulling the edge away from his hipbone so he could put his mouth there.

“Mmm… okay, that’s good.”

Credence didn’t even realize he was guiding the man, and thrusting against him until his fingers wound into short dark strands, and hot breath was hitting his inner thigh.

“I haven’t even touched you yet, and you’re dripping.”

Rolling his eyes again, Credence huffed impatiently, and brought his other hand to palm his cock, just barely freed from the tight underwear.

“Are you going to tease me until the sun rises or what?”  
“I haven’t decided.”

“Either you suck me off or I get to fuck you.”

Instead of answering with words, Percy took the head of his cock between his lips, and Credence lost the ability to make smart remarks, in favor of moaning, and trying to thrust deeper.

Percy hummed, and put his strong arm to brace against Credence’s hips, holding him down, and moving up and down impossibly slow, torturous almost, until he was crying out, and his toes curled, while the man swallowed around his pulsing cock.

“You do taste like heaven.”

He pulled back to murmur, before putting a sloppy kiss to Credence’s stomach, as he tried to catch his breath.

“I’ve only been aching for you to put that pretty mouth to use all night.”

“But I couldn’t touch you in the club.”

“We’re not in the club.”

He felt boneless, and dizzy, so when Percy got rid of his pants and boxers in one move, all he could do was stare, and he knew, he wanted that thick cock inside him as soon as possible.

“Someone’s needy.”

“Did I say that out loud?”

Percy chuckled,

“You did, but points in favor of you being delirious from a climax.”

Instead of doing it fast, and opening him up with fingers, Percy opted for slow, and he was humping into the bed when he put his mouth back on Credence, licking teasingly over his cock, still trying to make a glorious comeback, and then lower, caressing the sensitive skin of his sack and taint and then finally, blessedly, rubbing a fingertip over his hole.

“Where’s the stuff?”

Percy answered with a tongue nudging inside him, joined by what Credence thought might be his middle finger.

“The lube?”

He tried again, breathless, panting, and he realized he was hard.

“Right there baby.”

Percy surfaced only a moment, before he was resuming the torment, threatening to get Credence off, even without ever touching his cock again, and he fumbled for the bedside cabinet. Inside there was a small clear tube of stuff, and he passed it down, finally bringing a halt to the toying with his ass.

“God you’re insatiable.”

“I might have had some help.”

“You’re joking.”

“Nope. It was an experiment. Drinking and drugs.”

“Sex drugs?”

“Mhm.”

“You’re a doctor… you should know better.”

“And you’re a fucking midlife crisis baby.”

Percy slicked up his cock and was halfway inside Credence before he realized at least it meant the older man could go again before him. Ironic that.

“Fuck, fuck you’re so tight.”

“Talk dirty to me… Daddy.”

“None of that thank you.”

Credence pouted, but Percy’s next thrust rubbed right against his prostate and he knew he scratched over the man’s back from the feel of it.

His cock was trapped, aching, between their bodies as Percy fucked into him, the obscene sounds of their skin meeting, filling the room.

“Kiss me, I’m coming.”

Credence wanted to laugh at that, but it was so damn sexy to see the man lose control, and when their lips met, rather sloppily, he could feel the man’s cock pulsing inside him.

It wasn’t until he felt a hand gripping his own cock that he fell back against the pillows, breaking the kiss as his second orgasm ripped through him, and he dimly felt teeth nibbling on his neck, before the man’s tongue soothed the sting.

“God, you’re so fucking pretty. Tell me you can give a mean shoulder massage. I’ll be needing to keep you.”

Three hours and several orgasms later, Percy was a confirmed cuddler, and sounding very domestic.

Credence sighed, and let the man continue to pet his hair.

“I don’t know about that. Can you cook breakfast?”

“I should think so.”

“So I guess I might adopt you then.”

“Hmm…”

Credence smiled, and kissed right beside the man’s heart,

“Go on then, practice how you’ll tell the story of our meeting.”

“In the strip club?”

“No… the other wild story.”

“Ah, we both got cheated on by our respective partners.”

“It’s ironic, and terrible.”

“Very.”

 

*

 


End file.
